Written on her Back
by Project Hypocrisy
Summary: Helena, saved by her sister Kathelyn from Shin Ra's clutches, must hide from a much more deadly threat. A threat looking for the Black Materia. A threat looking for the spell to cast Meteor. Funny enough, Helena knows where to find it.
1. Hello, Darkness

It is dark. And cold. I am alone.

I can't remember much, only that it had been some time since I moved. How long, I wasn't sure. I dreamt of distant waves crashing ashore, the warm crackling of long field grass waving from side to side, the perfect melody. But that all seemed so far from me, like I lost it long ago in some fire, a fire that claimed the life I once knew. Now I was here. In a bed that wasn't mine, in a room, I did not ask for, with drugs in my veins that I did not cocktail. I can't speak to oppose them. I can't move to avoid them. So I lay down, staring at the ceiling, praying that I'll forget today too.

I will, however, never forget the beautiful angel that visited one night, what seemed like years and yet felt like a mere moment ago. His long hair spun from moonlight, moonlight that would trickle through the suffocating clouds of smog and leak into my lonely room through the one barred window. It washed over me, forgiving me for everything I had done. I prayed to him, under my sullen breath, that I may leave this hell, if only I were forgiven enough to be granted such a wish. "Soon," he promised as a cool hand stroked my cheek, the sensation dulled by a cool veil of medication, "I will come for you." I took that promise to the grave, closed my eyes and rode the high into the night. Behind my eyelids, I could feel him baring down on me with his frigid green eyes, unmoving and unrelenting, as he pondered on my existence. "How shameful," he whispered into my ear, a tickling sensation spreading through my face as his hair softly landed, "but don't worry; it'll all end soon."

I suddenly woke. But he was not there. It was morning time, signalled by the blaring lights in the hallway. I could lift my head high enough to see the small window in the door set alight by the hissing tungsten lights. I rolled my head to the side, seeing my intravenous digging deep into my skin. A worry took hold; I would die here. No one would come for me. My angel would rather watch me die out of some demented need to punish me, would rather watch as I squirmed, as I struggled for my last hope to escape. I feared the loneliness. I feared that it would finally claim me.

I closed my eyes again as the nurse came into the room, the clicking of her heels echoed into my mind. I'm scared. I want to go home. I feigned sleep, waiting for a sting or a pinch somewhere along my arm but nothing came. I opened my eyes, wary of what may rest beyond my eyelids. Lo, there she was: a face that struck a chord deep inside my fresh wounds. I tried placing the face to a concrete memory but somehow it eluded me. The visceral feeling took hold and refused to let go.

"Who are you?"

The woman's face contorted. "Helena, it's me, Kathelyn."

"Kathelyn," I repeated, the name leaving a sour taste in my mouth. I let it linger, feeling around for some memory of this woman. Sudden and sharp, it came to me, opening the flood gates of rage and disappointment. "Get out," I slurred.

"Helena, I'm coming to take you out of here. I'm not leaving without you."

"Funny," I chuckled, "I would have never expected for you to say that."

"Helena, please," her hands took out the needle, "punish me later."

She helped me up, adjusting the pillow up against my back, offering me some comfort as I familiarized myself to this upright position. In her hands was a slender syringe and she came to poke the thick meat of my upper arm. I could not recoil and so allowed for her to pump me with the concoction. She assured me it was only a pure antagonist, that I would feel like myself soon enough. They were prepared to overdose me so long as I remained a quiet subject to Hojo's warped imagination. I felt the effects in seconds, rolling over and hacking out whatever they managed to feed me through a tube. I watched her in the corner of my eye as she anxiously watched over the door. When she saw some colour in my skin, she helped me into a wheelchair. She placed a mouth guard over my ears and then pulled it over my mouth. She hoped no one would look twice.

Surprisingly, no one did. Or rather, there was hardly anyone to look twice. I asked where everyone had gone; no nurses on the floor, no doctors at their station and only some guards on the main floor. "Shinra was killed," she spoke truthfully, "everyone is at home, riding out the state of emergency."

I snorted. Shinra, dead? How amusing. So, the turmoil spurred her to finally come for me. I was amazed that she came at all. I was amazed I was being taken out of my personal hell. Perhaps what my angel said, I now understood was a figment of my broken mind, was the truth. I would live. I would escape. I would be victorious for once. I just never thought I would be in the hands this woman, a woman I had no choice but to call sister. Looking at her I couldn't imagine her as the young girl who shared the tragedy of our childhood, all I could see was a bitter disappointment and abandonment.

"I hate you," I muttered, still foggy from the medication. I guess she didn't hear me as she continued to push me through the underground parking lot and helped me the back of a car. Or maybe she didn't really care to respond, I wasn't sure of which.

The car started. "Where are you taking me?" Might as well ask.

"Wherever you would like to go," she chimed, "you're free now."

I laughed. "I doubt it. We're never really free, aren't we?"


	2. Runaways

"When we are tired, we are attacked by ideas we conquered long ago."  
― Friedrich Nietzsche

"Do you remember when you were born?" Her voice like nails on a chalkboard, like a screeching halt of a turntable. When I said nothing, she continued, uncaring, "you were so hideously mucked up. Crying until I thought your lungs were about to burst."

She changed my dressing on the bed wound that festered on my side. I lay still, feeling very little as she peeled away the gauze from moist flesh. "I'm not sure you can stay here like this for much longer, Helena."

I reached for her hand, pleading, "no, I can't go back to a hospital." The sheer revolting thought of being placed in a hospital again erased the fear of being caught by Shin Ra.  
She continued to change the dressing as best she could with whatever she managed to pick up from the pharmacy. "Is there a plan then?"

"Does there have to be?" I snapped, pulling my shirt down and cradling myself back into the itchy sheets only an inn can provide.

"I suppose not," she deflected, "but we can't just keep paying rent here. This inn situation was meant to be temporary."

"I'm not leaving. I'm in no condition." I huddled further into my blankets, the itch creeping on my bare arms.

"Not yet," she attempted again to appease me in hopes of breaking down my thick walls. "Eventually we have to think about it. We have to keep moving."  
Insulted, I retorted, "you don't have to tell me." I knew we couldn't stay here and my spinning mind was beginning to understand too.

"I just want to help, Helena."

"You could have helped me when dad left us and you decided it was best to leave me at Shin Ra HQ." I launched myself forward, compelled by distress, "or maybe when I sent you birthday card after birthday card, asking you to just call me, at least once. Or maybe-." I stopped. It wasn't worth it and my chest felt hot.

"I know, you're right," after a moment of silence she spoke, her voice rasp, "I'm a terrible human being."  
You are. "Don't say that." You ruined me. "You're all I have now."

She buried her head in her hands, sniffling. I was always the one to cry but nothing was coming out, I felt hollow. I just wanted to go back to sleep but this time of my own accord and not by the hands of a twisted man, a man he called himself "scientist."

"Maybe we can go someplace warm," I entertained her wish to escape. I wanted so desperately to be in her good graces, to stop her crying. "It would be nice to feel the sand."

"You mean Costa Del Sol?" She laughed. "That's a long ways away. Perhaps the perfect place to settle in."

"No, not for long. We need to keep moving." My hand twirled at a short strand of my hair. It snapped and I was left with nothing but the ends of my hair in hand, frayed.

"I'm glad you see it my way."

I stood up suddenly, feeling the blood rush and prick at my heels. I reached to scratch them but felt no relief. I was at their mercy. I was always at the mercy of something more persistent than me. "There's no other way. I could have long ago decided to just roll over but I didn't. There's no stopping now."

There was no stopping. Kathelyn took that to heart, her eyes brightening despite the curtains being closed. There was something so endearing and yet so heartbreaking to see her try so hard. There was a time she would have laid the world at my feet if she could but I learned to not trust someone so giving. The more I wanted to believe there were selfless people out there, people that wanted nothing but my best interest, the more I realized that I would remain alone. But there was something so ingrained in me: the need to rely on someone else. Kathelyn was one of those people: so brave and hardheaded. I wanted to rely on someone like her. Someone like him.

I shook my head; why was I thinking of him, of all times and places to reminisce? It didn't matter. He is dead. And I am here. I ask myself who won in the end?

I could hear it again, a radio playing. Kathe turned it on for white noise so that I could fall asleep. The hum and clacking heels of the hospital would accompany me into deep slumber after deep slumber. Old songs from childhood would drift in and out of consciousness and I would hum along. The music had stopped and a stern voice detailed an attack on Shin Ra HQ. I laughed in my chest.

"What's so funny?"

"Nothing. Just thinking about how I'm outliving a lot of people lately." I twirled another piece of my hair, watching the end snap under the force of my forefinger and thumb. "I think there's a lot of hardships ahead," I admitted, "we should be prepared."

Kathe sat on the corner of her bed, sighing heavily as her legs collapsed under a heavy, almost palpable weight. "I think I understand. Neither of us are very battle worn."

"Maybe we should find someone who is."

Her eyebrow shot up, hovering just beneath her newly trimmed bangs. It's amazing how bangs can change your appearance. "We shouldn't get third parties involved, all things considered."

"I've always been able to keep a secret."

"You sure could," she laughed. "Remember, that one time I snuck out to meet Tara, that little brat from Junon? You tried to convince mom that I was in the house and just wouldn't break. You even started to cry. I think at one point you did manage to convince her, up until she caught me sneaking back in."

My heart sank slightly. "You still think of her as 'mom'?"

She went silent and her face fell. "I miss her, Helena."

Maybe it would have been easier if we forgot. We were kids, we shouldn't have had to deal with the things we dealt with. Kathe knew that before I understood, she escaped a fate much worse than we could imagine. So she decided to take me along this time to absolve her of some sins I couldn't bear to swallow. I had to grin and bear it, however; there was no choice now. I wasn't going to just lay down and die, although something deeply embedded in me wished otherwise. Laying in my hospital bed, I realized how much I didn't want to die, certainly not die from an infected bed wound. I wanted to see so much of the world. There was so much of the world I only watched through the lens of a television screen, through the lens of someone much more privileged than I. I bet they didn't even realize how privileged they truly are. I didn't realize how privileged I was. I was alive and he was dead. He'll never get to see the world like I was about to.

"We'll find you a way to head to Costa del Sol, I promise." She huffed, "maybe you're right. Maybe we do need to find someone to act as a meat shield."

I smirked; she always had excellent timing when it came to humour. I enjoyed people with humour the most. They always understood things in ways I couldn't quite comprehend. I bet they thought me very serious when in fact I love to laugh but never smiling -smiling required too much effort, laughing was entirely effortless. I wondered if I laugh more like my mother or our father? Kathe laughed like her lungs depended on the air being exhaled -like inhaling through a small straw. She thought my hair cut was hilarious. She had cut out all the mats but only the mats leaving me with a jagged bob. I entertained her and began laughing too. I didn't look like myself anymore. I looked like someone without a care in the world. So I laughed without her vaguely realizing that I wasn't laughing at the hair.

He didn't entertain Kathe's attempt at humour, however. The man, sun-kissed skin and sun-bleached hair, paid us no attention, his eyes fixated on the screen hovering in front of him. She tried to get his attention with a joke our father used to say -a drunkard's joke. Although the man looked like he knew of hard labour, his clothes stunk of beer. His eyes shifted in our direction after she told the joke a second time. "What do you want?"

"Times are tough," I twirled the shill in my glass, something they gave me when I asked for bourbon. "I heard the president is dead."

"Yeah," his tense shoulders fell around him, his elbows crashing into the bar rail. "All the best, I say." He raised his bottle in my direction, testing me. I met his bottle with my glass, the thin glass clanking hard.

I reached over from my seat, extending my hand. "I'm Helena, and this is Kathelyn."

"You can call me Kathe," she added.

He shook our hands with an equal amount of snapping at the shoulder; I nearly fell off my stool and Kathelyn jerked around slightly. Battle-worn, just like we ordered.  
"Kathe and Helena," he repeated, "what can I do you for?"

We heard from the innkeeper of a group of miners who lost their jobs after the Mythril Mines were overrun by monsters. We asked if he knew of someone who would be able to drive us across the sea. "You'll see him. He's bigger than all of them. He has a boat and he'll help you for the right amount of gil." Jofrey was his name and he didn't seem to take too kindly to those who evoked it.

"We need help," Kathe was insistent. "We need to have someone ferry us across to Costa."

His eyes watered slightly as if he were about to bust a gut laughing but decided it was best to retract his sass. "Listen, I don't babysit strangers."

I flashed him the wad of cash in my jacket. Kathe had the brilliance to ask me to dump out my savings. It wasn't much as we could easily take it out in two sittings from the automated teller but enough to keep us going for at least as far as Costa del Sol. Kathe was the mind behind all of this; she clearly spent nights, even weeks planning my breakout. At least I hope she did rather than mulling over the idea altogether.

"Alright," his jaw slacked, "where to?"

"Costa del Sol."

"You have taste," he snickered.

"It's just somewhere I always wanted to go, you know? See an actual sunset."

* * *

**Note**:

I am working on uploading this from AO3. It's my third and last attempt at this story. I hope you enjoy!


	3. Frozen Waves Where the Past Comes Back

"Forgiving does not erase the bitter past. A healed memory is not a deleted memory. Instead, forgiving what we cannot forget creates a new way to remember. We change the memory of our past into a hope for our future."

-Lewis B. Smedes

* * *

"You know, I don't blame them."

"Who?" I snapped out of a trance, the boat bobbing up and down across the inky ocean. We were well across the ocean now, the shore disappeared long ago into the black abyss of the midnight. Jofrey assured us he could drive his boat in the night despite Kathelyn's concerns. I wasn't willing to stay out in the open any longer than I had to and decided to take his word.

"Avalanche," he responded, "they have it right; Shin Ra needs to be put down like the rabid dog they are."

I didn't want to argue. This was his boat, his home, he told Kathelyn. He quickly went into how he came to live in the boat: trading his apartment in Junon for the boat, and he left it at that. Kathelyn didn't push, not wanting Jofrey to expect us to divulge our own life stories. I didn't believe he would have; he understood being paid in cash required some diplomacy on both parties. We asked him very little, spoke in short sentences, so he knew he would get little in return. The perfect relationship.

I didn't want to argue, but every relationship I ever had brought the worst out of me. I was persistent and obtuse -terribly annoying qualities. I didn't want to argue but something told me to push. "They are so alike Shin Ra. Mass murders. Taking out an ant with a bomb."

"Ha! You think Shin Ra's an ant?" His hands gripped the steering wheel tightly. I honestly thought every miracle Shin Ra produced had some sort of autopilot so seeing Jofrey manipulate his boat so much surprised me. Jofrey seemed like the kind of person who wouldn't do well with something (or someone) else in control. "You're entitled to your own opinion."

The air went stale and Jofrey's eyes fixed on a horizon neither of us could see but we knew it was there. I had never seen a horizon so lost in oblivion before, not even when I was a child living in Junon. We knew it was there because we had seen it shimmering and blue; I wanted to believe, a creeping sense of dread filling me. Something a kin to falling asleep in the pitch black darkness of a cell.

"I think I'll head to bed."

He nodded in response. "G'd night."

Jofrey invited us to sleep in bunks below the deck. Kathelyn had already left for the night. When I walked down the short and steep staircase, there was still a light shining in one of the rooms. Perhaps Kathelyn just wanted some time to herself; now that she helped me escape, there was very little privacy for either of us. We forgot when either of us was in the bathroom and, being an older inn, there was no lock on the door. I would kick the door shut leading Kathelyn to apologize profusely. I was used to my privacy being revoked at a moment's notice, however, I was now trying to reclaim it. Hojo was notorious for his inconsistency with his subjects, just to twist them even further, until they broke -possibly another secret project of his. I highly doubt Kathelyn suffered a similar fate.

"Thought you went to bed," I caught her attention.

She took her ceaseless attention from the ceiling and was forcefully snapped out of her daze. "I was getting nervous out there." She laughed although I didn't understand. I was accustomed to laugh at other's jokes.

"It's the dark, isn't it?"

"It's so dark! I'm surprised he knows where he's going." Kathelyn laughed again.

She watched as I settled on the bottom bunk. "I know you like the bottom bunk."

"I used to tell you it was because I had to go to the washroom often, during the night. It was really because I was afraid of falling through."

She laughed. "Yeah, dad made it so I don't blame you."

"He was a good mechanic, to be fair. Remember when mom's tractor just lit up?"

"The one he spend nine months trying to fix? He may not have been such a great mechanic as you remembered."

"But he was persistent. And he cared."

Melancholically, Kathelyn replied, "that he did."

Dad, Kathelyn's birth father, wasn't as blameless as we painted him to be. Dad was such a loving human being who went out of his way to help his fellow person. But then there was the dad that drank and whose money ran out of his fingers like liquid. I remember Mom had to water down our milk and our Chocobos losing their feathers. Kathelyn always came to his rescue, especially after Mom died. She would search for him when he hadn't returned home in days and wash his face, caked in vomit. He would always thank her and gush about how good she was, his little princess. Dad loved us, but he also loved his hard liquor. I wonder if Kathelyn felt guilt?

"Kathelyn?" But she was already snoring and I wasn't willing to stir the pot when she desperately needed sleep. Kathelyn spent many nights fonding over me, sitting on the bed next to mine and monitoring each breath I took. I felt her there, in-between twilight micro-sleeps.

My micro-sleeps did nothing for my inexplicable exhaustion. Hojo made it a point to inject me with a cocktail only I would recognise, one that made me feel warm and floaty before I crashed hard onto the hospital bed. I would stare vacantly at the ceiling, wanting more and knowing I would but only on Hojo's time.

"Must be so difficult to be someone like you," I remember him saying to me, as I drifted into the void. I was so enthralled by the self-inflicted pain I caused as I meandered in and out of a burning barn.

I always would feel the heat, a heat so unbearably hot my mind instructed me to stay still and let it consume me. Kathelyn was unable to move my bonded feet, bonded to the soft dirt of our barn, straw strewn around set aflame. I still had the Materia in my hand when Mom picked me up, scooping me close to her ice cold chest.

She coughed a lot after that. To the point that blood would spray across our dingy wallpaper; oil and blood sticking no matter how hard you scrubbed at it.

"Helena?" She cried out, again and again. Dad took me by the hand and pulled me towards her bed. "Blame yourself," she told me.

I can feel the heat. "Blame yourself." The smoke is thick, I can't breathe.

I could see it, a dream no longer. Body after body, piled by the door. They suffocated before they could see freedom. I reached for their faces trying to place them in a memory. They were pale and smudged with dirt and soot, their arms outstretched towards the door, but I didn't have the key. The doors wouldn't open and I could hear Mom screaming in pain, asking what she had done to deserve it all.

"Please," I choked through the smoke. "I don't want to feel," feel what? "I don't want to feel like this."

"It must be so difficult to be you, having such a burden on your back." Moonbeam strands kissing my palms, cool amongst the flames. He was standing amongst the corpses. He was standing above them. He reached for me. "Blame yourself, Helena."

"Helena?" I shook awake, Kathelyn was standing over me, a look of concern resting on her brow. "You okay?"

I looked around -deep breaths. I reached around for the thin sheets, twisted around my ankles. Nothing was on fire. There was no barn. There was no Mom. I was safe. For now.

"I'm fine."

"Bad dreams?"

"I'm fine, Kathelyn," I scoffed reflexively.

"We have arrived at Costa del Sol," she announced, "might want to get some sunscreen."

She was right. As soon as I set foot on the steps leading up to the deck, the sun blared through the small opening. I slipped off my coat, the warm rays prickling up and down my bare forearms. I was finally in Costa del Sol after so many years living and working in Midgar, and promises of leaving for some much needed time off. It seemed as though everyone but me vacationed in Costa del Sol. I preferred to work, I would tell myself, work myself into a corner where one keeps their liquor, drugs and hard to swallow feelings.

Kathelyn stepped down onto the dock, head swiveling around, eyes darting. "Why are the Shin Ra here?" She pointed to the large cargo ship. The reflective surface of the ship now seemed to suddenly stand out and my heart took a tumble off my ribcage, fluttering in my stomach.

"Probably because Rufus is now president. President Rufus..." Jofrey spat off the dock, into the water, in disgust.

"Rufus?" Nepotism at its finest, however, I was still surprised he finally made it. It pays to wait and let someone kill off your old man. Better than dirtying your hands, eh, Rufus?

"We need to get out of here," Kathelyn whispered directly in my ear, attempting to avoid Jofrey's increasing suspicion.

"Maybe you're right," I stared down Jofrey, his stare unrelenting but whispered nonetheless, "but I'm not leaving. Rufus has always had a disdain for Hojo. I'm not worried."

"Sounds like I should be worried about you," Jofrey crossed his arms tightly around his broad chest, seemingly frustrated. "I don't ferry around terrorists."

Kathelyn's shoulders tensed at the word. I approached him with a cockiness I never thought I possessed. He continued to stare me down, eyes sharply focused onto mine. "There's no need to worry about us. Not if I have the money, right?" I taunted.

"Hmph, depends how much, I guess." He spat again -a terrible habit.

"Let's just find somewhere to sleep for the night," Kathelyn interjected.

"Fine," Jofrey snapped, "I need to catch up on sleep before I head back with my money."

Kathelyn went on and on about how Jofrey was not worth the trouble nor the money, shaking her finger in his face, but I had to disagree. He took us to Costa del Sol in one piece. He did exactly as he said he would and I had to thank him for that. But I didn't. I was too busy eyeing a gathering of Shin Ra security people -a haunting sight. They were obnoxiously discussing their luck: they were in Costa del Sol, the land of sun and beautiful women. Their discussion took a striking turn when one of them lamented on how Rufus was now president.

"Did you hear about the attack on HQ, though?" One of them said, now in a hush but still audible.

"I heard it was Avalanche."

"Well I heard it was Sephiroth." The name salient in my mind, quickly retrieving a memory. No, he was dead. They told me he was dead. I was sure he was dead.

"Hey," Kathelyn tore me away from old memories and fleeting commiserations, "the hotel has a room left." How long had I been standing on the dock like that? How long was I away from Kathelyn. I looked around and I was the only one standing on the dock, the sun nestling in the buildings.

"What does the news say about Sephiroth?" I had to know. I know what Hojo said, sickeningly pleased by his findings. Which I found to be strange. He was clear and enunciated his words, taking notes on my reaction. I was in-between micro-sleeps, wrapped up in a warm blanket of sweet dreams, dreams that terrified but felt very much like home. I just took note, like a good research assistant.

Kathelyn seemed to understand my question, her eyes softened. "They say he died on a mission."

"How?"

"Not sure. I think they were particularly vague on that for a reason."

I needed to be certain. No great procession for you, old friend, just a quick mention on the news, the news that would be so generous in their portrayal of you, forgetting the atrocities of war. I knew how you loathed it, the way people watched you because they were so certain you wouldn't fail. Until you did, and then you became some hit piece on the integrity of your character; infallible until you were just like everyone else: mortal.

I'm particularly nostalgic and I'm not sure how to stop. It feels nice to remember a childhood in which I wasn't alone. Conceivably, I hate Kathelyn. I hate what she did and who she is, totting me around so that she can feel absolved. I remember a small framed child, diving his nose into a book twice his size, avoiding the running children around him. I was distinctly attracted to his silver hair, pooled onto his shoulders. They equally avoided him for that very same reason -he wasn't like them, in every sense. I remember we would take turns with an orange crayon and then a yellow and blue, drawing a sunset sky. I remember telling you how the sun would set over the mountains of Junon with deeper oranges and brighter yellows.

But I never saw a sunset like this, old friend. When the bustle of Costa del Sol moved to the beach, and after we settled in our room, Kathelyn took me by the arm and we waiting for the sun to take its nightly decent. I couldn't understand why we were so drawn to something that happened every night until one day the sun ceased to exist, overtaken by the thick polluted clouds of Midgar. The Costa del Sol sunset was nothing like I remembered -the perfect mix of bitter and sweet. I rolled up my pants and walked into the sea, feet sinking in the wet sand. This was the sunset I wanted to show you, the one that never existed in Midgar, the one you were deprived of seeing.

"It's really beautiful, isn't it?" Kathelyn approached me, fingers tapping lightly on my arm.

"It's what I needed to see. I guess to prove it still exists. In Midgar, you don't see these things often," I laughed. Kathelyn's face fell. "I'm just joking. Of course it exists. I remember it." I collapsed, knees soaked. "I remember it all."

"Hey!" Kathelyn reached for the nook of my arm, pulling me into her arms. "It's okay," she soothed, patting my back gently.

"I'm so sorry," I sobbed, unsure it would ever stop. I'm so sorry. I'm so sorry for everything, I wanted to tell him but he was gone and I am here.

* * *

A/N: Thanks to those who are reading! I would love to hear what you think. I want to try and make this as good as I possibly can.


	4. Ghosts are Waiting for You

**Chapter 3:**

**Ghosts are Waiting for You**

_"I've got quite a vivid imagination and I'm easily overwhelmed by sensations and things that are beautiful or scary. I don't think I've ever seen a ghost - I think I'm probably haunted by my own ghosts than real ones."_

_-Florence Welch_

A/N: Warnings for swearing, drug/alcohol mention and abuse, and suicidal ideation

* * *

There's a place in everyone too dark for you to venture. I never understood why I kept this pendant, cradled in my palms. I assume my desire is to keep it close, even though that reason is lost in the abyss.

I was seven. I liked skipping rope and guilting people as I let fake tears streak my face. It had been three days since she picked me up from school. Dad left a few months ago and Kathelyn was trying her hardest to keep things together so it came as a surprise when she didn't come at three-thirty. I walked home and tried to feed myself and do my homework. Being complacent with the disappearance of my father, Kathelyn's disappearance was just as equally unimportant. I could take care of myself, I would remind myself, I don't need anyone. Then, Shin Ra security came to pick me up at school. They told me Kathelyn was safe, fine in fact, unprompted. She felt it necessary to leave me behind, not taking me with her to wherever she thought Shin Ra would take her. Confused but complacent, as always.

"I think we're more alike than we give ourselves credit." Sephiroth smiled in response. He too understood: we were the left-behinds. A necklace to tie me down, a reminder of memories best left forgotten.

I was venturing too close to the border into the unknown so I decided to drown it in a drink. There was a bar downstairs and Kathelyn was snoring something fierce. Her deviated septum, something Mom tried so hard to fix on a strict budget, apparently was never fixed. She was always a heavy sleeper, she wouldn't miss me much.

Sneaking out and closing the door as gently as possible, I noticed someone sitting in the dark. Jofrey was sitting on the stoop leading into his open room. Smoke billowed out of his snared nostrils, a rolled cigarette hanging between forefinger and thumb.

"Sneaking out, eh? You don't seem like the type." Tendrils of smoke sneaking out of his mouth.

"I'm not going far."

"I guess that's not the point." Tap, tap and ash piled onto the clay floor between his feet. "She seems like the overprotective type and you seem like a grown adult. I guess what I'm saying is that she'll follow you around regardless."

"She's incapable of being protective, just a pretender. She can't protect me," I grumbled, unimpressed.

"You need someone to protect you?" He asked, eyebrow furrowed.

I unintentionally smirked. "You're looking for more employment? I haven't paid you enough?"

He matched my pace and laugh sardonically. "You have deep pockets; I gathered as much from the way you throw around your money. If you want someone to protect you, I'm no stranger to a fight."

His scars up and down his bare arms told me as such. There was one deep gash from where his tricep attached to the scapula, rotating around his the nook of his elbow. "You seem like it but I need more than a fighter."

"For fuck's sake, Helena. I'll be what you need me to be."

"For how much?"

"20,000 gil."

"That seems like a low bid," I joked.

"What am I worth to you?" He took the bait.

"I'll give you 10 now, 20 when you get where I need I need to be."

"And where's that?"

"Not sure yet. I guess that's where the 20 comes in."

"You got a deal," he extended his hand, cigarette loosely associated with his lip. I accepted the terms, happy that Kathelyn was no longer the only person I was relying on.

I moved towards the stairs, leading to the bar. "Want to join me?"

"Nah, not today."

I shrugged. "You think I have deep pockets now, wait until I'm drunk."

He laughed. "Have fun."

I planned on it, I was planning on enjoying as much as I could unsure where I would wake up the next day. Anxiety was something I was fully acquainted with and a good fifth of whiskey, alone on my balcony looking out the Entertainment District, ended most of them. I entered the bar feeling some anxieties surfacing. The bar was fairly empty except for the group of tourists in the corner. I took my seat on the edge of the bar counter and ordered a whiskey on the rocks -blasphemous, I know.

It wasn't long after I had the drink in my hand that I felt the presence of someone next to me, peering over my shoulder. "I'll have what the lady is having," I heard a familiar voice, settling on the barstool next to be, requesting the bartender for a drink of his own.

"I thought no one cared, at this point, I thought I finally got away. Reeve, how are ya?"

A short swig before he acknowledged me. "I'm on vacation, so I would say just fine. Never did very well in the sun, however."

"About time. I don't think you've taken time off." Reeve is possibly the most dedicated person I know. He took his job to heart but was habitually misguided by his own good intentions.

"It's an extended leave."

"What did you do?"

He smiled, "you know how it works. Massage the right backs, right?"

I took the seat next to him, dragging my perspiring glass of whiskey along the bar rail. "I think we should just drink to the fact that you found me."

"Happenstance," he shrugged, slamming his elbows down. He had clearly been drinking. "Can you believe I noticed your fingernails? Or lack thereof."

"I think it's better that way," I flashed my nails in his face, "I look like I can take a punch." He laughed at my clear shortcomings.

It was an accident. I was fourteen and smashed, so drunk that when I woke up the next morning I was still under the effects. I woke up and began laughing at my missing bloody fingernails -the first and last time that I would drive it to that extent. They just never grew back. When I went to the doctor concerned that they were growing and I was in constant pain, they recommended that I amputated them. No, this was a constant reminder of my persistent stupidity.

"Do you think it's that noticeable?" I studied them, wondering if on my rap sheet somewhere it mentioned to look out for a tattooed woman with missing fingernails.

"I know why you're asking," he interrupted, "and no one cares, not even Hojo. He's interested in a more recent event."

My shoulders relaxed; Reeve would never lie to me, or at least, that's what I hoped. I could never trust Shin Ra employees for I too was a backstabber. "The terrorists?"

"A thorn in Shin Ra's side compared to the whispers hanging around HQ." He leaned in, hand acting as a sound barrier to anyone nosy enough, "President Shinra was skewered by-," he drawled.

"By?"

"Our one and only General."

I felt it -nails dragging along my back, electric shocks stinging my shoulders and calves. "He's dead."

"We'd like to think so -especially you," he slurred, suggestively.

"I'd rather create this hangover than commiserate, to be honest." Another glass in my hand -getting closer to the fifth. I wanted to teeter on the edge of losing control but not so far off the edge that I couldn't walk myself to the room. "I just want to," I paused for a moment, unsure what I truly wanted, "move on."

"I remember when you first started working for Hojo, ready to take on the corporate ladder. You sure came a long way, stabbing him in the back like that."

"You're not letting me move on, are you?" I pressed, discontented by his need to bring up a past I wanted to move forward from, victorious.

"I'm just saying you've come a long way, cutting the cord."

"You refuse to cut your own cord. When I first met you, young and bright-eyed, I thought you wouldn't last. But look at you now: torn down and forced to take a vacation." I snapped, certain he wasn't pleased by his instructions to distance himself from Shin Ra for the time being and I used it to my advantage.

He finished his own glass with one swig, lips curled around the glass. I admired him, his ability to cope with everything seemingly falling around him. I heard of the plate falling; his brainchild imploding. I suppose he found solace at the bottom of a bottle just as much as me.

It was his suggestion; his inability to settle the disappointment he felt without a loss of inhibitions. A bottle was reluctantly placed in front of us. We reached the end of the bottle quickly. I noticed how boisterous we became when the bartender mentioned for us to settle down, we were scaring his only other patron. Reeve slapped down a two-hundred gil bill and instructed him to hand over another bottle. It wasn't too long before that bottle was gone too. We hoisted the bottle to our lips, sharing in our levied history. It wasn't long before we began to slur so much, muddling our words, that we laughed at our self-inflicted speech impediments.

Reeve requested that he walk me up to the hotel room, noticing me crawl over the steps to the rooms upstairs. He persisted until he saw Kathe woken up by my wheezy laughter.

"Kathe! Look who I found!" I pointed to Reeve, who had already slipped away.

"You're a complete fucking moron, you know that!" Kathe reached for my arm and lead me up the stairs.

As we reached the top of the stairs, she instructed me to walk into the room myself, disgusted by my bullheaded laughter. I was a huge embarrassment.

"I thought you were kidnapped, you fucking idiot!"

"You're not my mom, Kathe. You're the one who fucking decided it was a good idea to save me. I never asked for this. I never asked for you." I blubbered, arguing when I should have chosen to slip into bed and sleep it off, knowing this was a bad idea.

Kathe was having none of it. "You wouldn't need rescuing if you weren't such a child, Helena! You decided it was a good idea to get involved with Hojo. You decided that it was smart to come here, fully aware of the fact that Shin Ra could be at your heel at any moment."

A boiling sensation under my rib cage pouring out. "I sent card after card, every year for your birthday, no answer! So you don't get to then decided to play saviour. I had to do what I needed to do."

"You killed her, Helena!" Kathe's face now a shade of purple, tears streaking her face. "You killed her. I had to pick up the pieces, not you! You just kept making things worse with your crying and whining. But we knew, dad and I knew, you were to blame for all of it." Reflexively, her hand reached her mouth, slapping it shut.

"So now we know," suddenly sober, "you just want to punish me." Kathe shook her head furiously, sobs seeping through her hands covering her mouth.

I aimed myself for the ocean despite Kathe's pleas for me to just sleep it off and how she made a mistake. She reached for my arm several times, trying to drag me back, but I shrugged her off and continued to stumble on the stairs leading to the beach. The ocean seemed like the best place to sleep it off.

I collapsed into a sandcastle being consumed by the waves enveloping my boots. I wanted to feel the cool black water on my toes but was too drunk to reach my boots. I wondered what it would be like to have the water just swallow me whole, dragging me into its unknown abyss. It must be liberating to just feel carried away with no control and no one who could control, just drifting.

The sun was kissing the stretched-out horizon and Kathe began to hold me."I'm so sorry," she wept, "please forgive me. I made a terrible mistake. All I do is make terrible mistakes. I just want you to know its not your fault, it was never your fault. I just kept telling me that it was your fault to escape responsibility."

She may have felt she wanted to escape a hand-me-down reality no one would have wished upon her but she was wrong: it was my fault. Not just the precipitating event but all of it. I was and am a terrible person at the core, and I have to admit it, finally, admit it.

"We can fix this," I pulled her head onto my shoulder. "We can fix this."

It was sunrise now and the illuminated horizon did not seem so enigmatic; it was very much defined and not as deep. Perhaps nothing is as infinite and abstract as it seems. Perhaps even the deepest places of ourself could be defined. "We can fix this, Kathe."

* * *

A/N: I have some warnings at the beginning. I have changed some things to canon (i.e.: there is no hotel on top of the bar) just for world-building. Let me know what you think of this chapter! Or the fic as a whole!


	5. Think About the Good Times

**Chapter 4:**

**Think About the Good Times (and Never go Back)**

_"I said, "Tell me about what is real." _

_― Esmé Weijun Wang, The Collected Schizophrenias: Essays_

* * *

I remember I was never too far from my mother's hand. Attached at the hip, dad would tease. Kathelyn would scoff. When I lost that handholding, I conceded to the wills of others. I became vulnerable and soft, like a newly hatched bird. I lost a part of myself, bigger than I realised. I desperately tried to find something that would fill that hole but nothing was enough. Even him. Especially him.

They told me he died in Nibelheim -a terrorist attack -Avalanche, in fact. That's what they said officially to the public that ate up the story of the great hero Sephiroth and how he died in the line of duty, just like he should. People will accept what confirms their biases, it just so happened that in this case they believed a hero needed to die at the hand of an enemy; an enemy that never really existed. I wondered: if he was dead, did he ever imagine himself to be memorialized like he was? A quick mention in the papers, swept under the rug? Quick, like ripping off a scab, old and stuck. Get the hero out of their minds. Turn them away from inconsistencies. And I became yet another left-behind. It crushed me under its weight and I collapsed to the floor, inconsolable, and hiding behind closed doors. I promised myself it would be the last time that I would let someone have such a hold on me.

"Are you coming?" Jofrey called from the entrance of the cable car.

Kathelyn was furious I allowed him to join us on our expedition to the happiest place on Gaia. Jofrey was standing by the door, with a small pack across his broad back, a smile across his lips. He demanded to know where we were heading, Kathelyn was at a loss. She subsided to my wishes. I want to go to Gold Saucer, I commanded. It was empowering to see her crumble to my will, mumbling about how it was a bad idea but doing nor saying anything to change my mind.

"Do you really think this is a good idea?" Kathelyn whispered, following me into the cable car. She was terribly concerned of my decisions. I never really made a good decision in my life but I felt like this seemed as logical as it could be -he was more capable than either of us. And I was certain that a decent paycheck would keep it that way.

Apprehensive and yet still convicted to move forward, I shrugged in response.

Jofrey slapped the seat next to him. "They always set off fireworks at night; better look out the window."

"You've been there before?" I never would have imagined someone like him enjoying an entertainment park. He seemed miserable of his own accord.

"No, but I've heard of it. And I'm gathering that you've never been there either."

"No. I hate heights, to be honest."

Kathelyn leaned into the window as the cable car whined into motion, puffing air from her slacked lips. Kathelyn was hesitant of my decision. I was picking up my meager belongings when Kathelyn approached me. I felt her glaring at my back, shifting undecided. She was concerned that I wouldn't be able to take the cable car. I wanted to prove her wrong.

I leaned out the window, watching as the ground disappeared beneath us, air trapped in my throat. Just breathe. Just breathe.

"Helena, look." Kathelyn tapped my shoulder, my eyes sown shut.

The pop of the fireworks seemed distant, hiding behind my heartbeat and sweaty palms. It was distracting and soothing. Bright colours reflected on the golden surface of the Gold Saucer tree.

"Have you recently seen any fireworks?" I directed my question to Kathelyn.

"Yeah, when Wutai surrendered. Shin Ra staff went out in the streets and lit a few. I think that was the last time."

Joffrey snubbed her, snapping his tongue against his teeth. "Nothing like fireworks after a slaughter."

"I've never seen fireworks before," I ignored Jofrey's interruption, staring vaguely in Kathelyn's direction. She returned the favour, perceptive.

"Never?" Jofrey seemed surprised.

"Not a lot to celebrate in Midgar, I'm afraid," I laughed. Our father tried one summer but he accidently left them against the barn during a rain storm. My mother couldn't help but laugh at his plight. I knew he was really trying hard to give Kathelyn and I an experience. When we left for Midgar, I knew those summer nights would cease to exist save for a few choice reels I tried to protect from the decay of Midgar.

The cable car shook as it reached its destination, the endlessly looping music drowning out the mechanical whirl of the cable car breaks. Everything had an energy about it, a very Shinra-esque energy. Sweets and bright noise drowning out the misery below. Corel sprawled out in shambles around the cable car station; dust encroaching on tent canvas and seeping through the lungs of children, kicking a beer can. No one asked questions -don't ask questions you have no business in knowing the answer.

Jofrey stepped out first and I attempted to follow but Kathelyn grabbed my wrist, setting me off balance. "I hope you know that I will protect you. You know you can trust me, right?"

"Kathelyn, stop."

"You don't think this is shortsighted?"

"He'll figure it out someday and when he does, I'll pay him more."

"The money will eventually run out."

"Then we find someone else. Kathelyn, we need someone like him. Neither of us can handle hiding from or fighting Shin Ra."

"You're afraid of something."

Am I? I've felt fear before. When I walked home from school to find no one home. When the Shin Ra military police knocked at my door. Mom said to never open the door to strangers but they were persistent. I was afraid when the scalpel hit my temple and Hojo told me the anesthetic would lull me to sleep. Fear was never a motivator so this had to be something different.

"Or do you just want him around."

"How dare you," I seethed, suddenly feeling a spike in body heat rip through my chest. I took a breath and felt it subside. "Let's just enjoy the time we have here. We'll figure it out as we go along. Every time I plan something out, I jinx it." Fear wasn't a motivator, never was. I would freeze in place, feet cemented and air escaped my body. This was different; I felt compelled to move forward -to what end, I wasn't certain but I was getting there fast.

"Hey, c'mere!" Jofrey, standing up the map of the park, flagged me down. "Look! They have a rollercoaster! I heard they did and here it is."

"I'm petrified of heights, Jofrey. But," I took Kathelyn by the shoulders and offered her as sacrifice.

"There's no way in hell," Kathelyn spat.

It didn't take much more convincing to have Kathelyn on the same ride as Jofrey. It was torturous to get her down the piping but as soon as she saw the ride, with laser guns strapped to the front, she excitedly sat up front and pressured Jofrey to do the same. They are like children, I chuckled to myself. Seeing Kathelyn perk up like that was heartbreaking.

"Are you sure you don't want to try?" Jofrey attempted once more.

"Nah, you guys have a good time." No, it's better off like this: watching from the outside. Unwanted imaginative scenarios crept in my mind. I couldn't help but be this way. I was always like this but he made things worse. I would prod him, waiting for him to snap and leave me, my only friend. I was lulled into a false sense of security when he refused to take the bait but eventually my luck ran out. I felt him drive a deep wedge between us to which there was no way I could reach him. And I lost the last chuck of myself I never could replace.

It was perhaps the ride up but I felt drastically ill. My knees buckled slightly. I sent a quick text on the burner PHS Kathelyn bought notifying her that I would find a room for us. My brain swelled and seemed to knock itself on my temples. I felt suddenly alone as my fingers furiously typed at the keypad of the PHS. I just wanted to find a bed and bury my head underneath a pillow and cradle my body with a 1500-thread count sheet. Everything was seen through blurry, narrowed vision as I hobbled to my room. I was barely coherent as I slapped down the night's due; the thought of that bed, itchy sheets (as a hotel must have) pushed me forward. I just needed to rest, that was all.

"You okay?"

A familiar voice. Shin Ra, despite clearly not pursuing me, seemed to inadvertently find me at every corner. "Reno? Yeah, I'm just-."

"Hey!" He grabbed hold of my arm as my head aimed for the wall. "Let's take you to bed, okay?"

"I'm not interested. Just take me home, I'm too drunk," I slurred, word indecisively slipping from my dry lips, laughing at my own joke.

"Helena, have you been drinking?" He pulled me from the ground, looping his arm around my waist and dragging me forward.

"No, mom." I was cracking myself up.

I handed him my keycard. "Let's just get you to bed," he said with assuredness.

"Sure, Reno. You know I missed you tons."

"Might have been better if you stayed with Shin Ra."

"Shin Ra has more booze."

"What did you drink?"

"Nothing, I just feel weird."

He sat me on the edge of the bed and then leading me to the pillow. "How do you feel now?"

"In that sweet spot between drunk and hungover." Despite feeling so dissociated, I felt a heavy presence. I attributed the presence to Shin Ra's overwhelming hold on me. As much as I tried, as much as I tried to section that part of me, I knew no matter how far I walked, Shin Ra was near by. "Shin Ra's here," I muttered.

"Yeah. As much as you want to think otherwise, Hojo couldn't give two shits about where you are or what you're doing."

I laughed. He maybe was right. Reeve said as much but he had less ambiguous motives -the Turks were hired to round up a lot of Hojo's many mistakes. I didn't want to feel like just a runaway but something greater. Maybe a deserter? "So, why are you here?"

"We heard that Sephiroth was somewhere in the area." Wherever I was to go, my past was soon to follow. "You need some rest," he tapped at my back, I shirked away.

As soon as he left, the sound of the door echoing in the empty room was soon replaced by distance tinkling of piano keys. At first it was just random sounds until they gathered and were strung together in a coherent song. Something hidden behind layers of poor choices and memories of a life rather lived came forth. Like a leaky facet, drips gathered in the crooks of my eyes and leaked through my lashes; ugly sobbing ensued.

Taking the decorated letter opener left on the desk beside the Iron Maiden, I went to the liquor cabinet and began prying it open. Small little bottles of some unknown liquor had to do. Heat rose from my cheeks to my shoulders and down my spine. It wasn't long for the heat to turn to pain, tearing through my nerves, seizing my muscles. I let out a guttural cry through clenched teeth. I began slipping out of my clothes, sobbing louder and louder as my skin was exposed by the air. I needed to cool my skin, entirely on fire at this point. I crawled to the bathroom, the grinding of my teeth drowning out my cries.

I pulled myself to my feet and sat on the edge of the bathroom skin, fingertips drawing out where my skin was lifting and bubbling; the sprawling tattoo across my back was raised a good centimetre. I felt alone as I turned the cold water facet, feeling the water touch my skin like needles. I wanted someone to hold my hand, reassuring me that this feeling would pass. My knees buckled and hit the slippery tiles, sliding across the wet floor, my head colliding with the floor. My ears rang, complimenting the piano notes drafting through the exhaust vent and the small crack in the room door. I closed my eyes, at peace with the pain.

The feeling of longing dissipated as I felt my head being lifted from the floor. "Kathe?" I called out.

"Hello Helena," she answered, her smiling unbecoming of her. "You must have felt cold laying on the ground like that."

"I think something's wrong."

"You would think that. You were always rather paranoid. Always clinging to a reality you would rather live."

Using her shoulder, I pulled myself so that we were looking face-to-face. It was like looking at a mirror reflecting of her: something didn't seem quite like her. Someone was wearing her skin. I shuttled across the floor, back hitting the wall behind me.

Her skin shrugged, "not what you wanted?"

That voice, "Sephiroth? No. You're dead."

"Is that what comforts you at night?"

I struggled upwards, eyeing the open door. Fearful of the menacing force before me, a murderer wearing a skin that wasn't his, I measured my following actions. I calculated: I could easily escape if I refused to stop. Yes, I needed to scream. I needed to run. And kick, bite... I needed to escape.

I screamed for help as I made my move for the door, feeling his fingertips gracing my ankle. The proper reflection of Kathelyn was opening the hotel room door when I collided with her, relief washing over me.

"What's wrong? What happened?" She hastily pushed me back into the room; I was wet, cold and half naked.

"We need to leave! Now!" I plead. I reached for her nap sack, a gun floating with its holster. In an act of discomposure, I gathered my nerve, pulled the gun and aimed it for the bathroom door.

"Helena!" The voice from the bathroom was so like Kathelyn's that Kathelyn stumbled back into the room's door.

"Stand back! Or I'll fucking shoot!" I didn't feel confident in my words but the gun seemed to do most of the talking.

"Do it, Helena." He sauntered forward, the skin smirking. He knew more than anyone I understood that I didn't possess the audacity to actually shoot him. He knew, he was counting on it.

"Sephiroth, please," I whimpered, the barrel of the gun shaking and gradually dropping.

"Such a weak person; I'm glad to see nothing has changed."

"Please," I plead again, closing my eyes.

"Don't you fucking touch her!" Kathelyn shouted as she tried to pull me behind her, acting as a shield.

"She's the one pointing a gun. She's always been rather fierce and having very little the stand on. Oh, but you wouldn't know, would you? Barely knowing your own sister, how sad? Making up for lost time, I see?"

"You have no idea what you're talking about," she spat.

"Struck a nerve? Do you really think you can protect someone you have no idea who they are, who they really are? I would be more careful with the person behind you than the one standing in front of you."

"Fuck off," she asserted.

"Right Helena? We all have skeletons in our closets." He sat on one of the beds nonchalantly, seeming very confident with his position.

"What are you doing here?" I puzzled.

"I thought I would offer you some advice, some direction. You have always lacked purpose."

"Stop pretending like you know me."

The skin's lips tightened into a smile. "Oh, I know you, I know you very well. And I know that you tried to cut out the tattoo on your back when you were thirteen and high enough to have the nerve. I know that you would do it again."

I slipped from my meat shield and approached with caution. I was compelled to look at him in the eyes. "You know me, don't you?"

He nodded deliberately, "I know you want to understand, understand that there is some meaning to all of this." He leaned forward, gesturing me to meet him halfway. "The Black Materia, it will be mine."

Kathelyn protested as I stood in horror of the revealed secret, a piece of flesh in my hands.

"Where the fuck did he go?" She snapped, shaking me at the shoulders. She was just bewildered as I was.

She reached for the flesh, cupped in my hands. "No!" I twisted away, imprisoning the flesh. Her fingers snaked their way and unlatched my cage, deciding to flush it.

"No!" I followed her into the bathroom, "we don't know what it is."

"It's not staying here and you're not fucking holding it." Down the shitter.

"You have no idea what you've done."

"No, I have no idea! I have no idea what the hell is going on either!"

"I'm just as scared as you are, you know."

"Apparently not!" She crossed her arms tightly. "What the hell is going on here, Helena?"

"I-I'm not sure. I just know that it's a bad idea to stay in one place too long." I sighed, dispensing tension. I gripped the gun at my side.

"He knows about the tattoo."

"He said something about getting the Black Materia, too."

"The ultimate destruction materia?" She remembered my mom's ramblings.

"You should have seen Hojo's face when he found out he accidently stumbled on a link to the Temple of the Ancients."

"The tattoo," she hesitated. "You do know what this means?"

"I do."

"So, Jofrey's going to come in handy, then."

"I'll be paying more for his cooperation, that's for certain," I inadvertently chuckled.

I faltered and sunk to the ground. Kathelyn dragged me to one of the beds, slipping me between the sheets. "You need to rest."

I raised up in protest. "Just rest," she interjected, "I'll stay up until Jofrey comes." She coaxed the gun from my hands.

"What are you going to tell him?"

"Nothing," she concurred. "Not until you wake up."

Finally at peace, I closed my eyes. I thought I would recognize him by looking into his eyes but I recognized nothing. He wasn't the person I once knew. Not the young kid, locked away in the mechanical tower of Shin Ra HQ. We would talk in the vents and send little secret notes in code. He taught me how to unscrew the vent grate to send bigger parcels but he had no idea I would try to smuggle myself in.

"It's your birthday next week."

"Hm, I guess you're right," he shrugged.

"So, what would you like?"

"Quiet."

"Uh-huh, sure. C'mon! You'll be turning twelve! That's huge. Here, let me tell you this, I'll make you the best gift you have ever had!" He didn't seem convinced but allowed me to sneak into his room again later that week, and I came bearing gifts.

"So-o, what do you think? See," I took his hidden pet rat and guided it into one of the pipes, "it's an exercise maze!"

"I love it," he seemed so genuine; despite the lack of a smile, I knew it would have to do. Little did I know it would also be a goodbye gift. He left for Wutai shortly after. I accepted the empty cell next to me; the quiet stabbed at my fragility. I noticed when he returned, how different he seemed. With every parting, he seemed to be... more and more unlike the boy I knew.

* * *

A/N: I will need to fix a continuity error for Chapter 2 (remind me later, thanks).

Let me know what you think!

Thanks to OneThousandCuts for your continued support!


	6. She'll Burn Our Horizons

**Chapter 5:**

**She'll Burn our Horizons, Make no Mistake**

"During sleep, dreaming occurs because the brain attends to endogenously generated activity. In unusual settings, such as sleep-deprivation, sensory deprivation, or medication or drug ingestion, the brain attends to exogenous and endogenous activities simultaneously, resulting in hallucinations, or wakeful dreaming."

-Mahowald, M. W., Woods, S. R., & Schenck, C. H. (1998). Sleeping dreams, waking hallucinations, and the central nervous system. _Dreaming_, 8(2), 89–102.

* * *

_"There's something wrong with that girl. Shut her up!"_

He never raised a hand at me, never screamed directly at me, but often Kathelyn would get the brunt of his disappointment; life had taken him places he refused to accept, and I seemed to be the one to blame. Regardless, when Kathelyn washed my hair in the bathroom basin, water she had been saving for days, she was very gentle. Possibly something burning just skin deep, bubbling and waiting to rupture thin tissue. I wondered how taunt tissue could get before it caved, imploded. Sephiroth seemed to have the toughest skin, I imagined, but even then it's only a matter of time before we snap. It's only a matter of time before we implode -a black hole left in our wake.

I could hear them whispering to each other. Jofrey started to yell and grab his meagre belongings: a pair of underwear, a shirt and a small dagger he kept on his nightstand. He walked out the door and Kathelyn followed, begging, taking the stack of money I was keeping in a sock. He returned sometime later, with Kathelyn in tow, rubbing her damp cheeks. They were talking about me. They were talking about how desperate and weak I was. I could do this on my own, I thought to the dripping bathroom faucet; I wonder what it would be like to drip down the drain. Jofrey said nothing for some time, just listening to Kathelyn's harsh voice. She was constantly teetering on the edge of having her shit together and collapsing to the floor. Jofrey just listened.

"So, what do you think guys? Should we just tie the noose now and let gravity take its course?" I slapped my knee and let out an exaggerated laugh. No one laughed.

"Please Jofrey," Kathelyn plead, one last time before he sat beside me. Kathelyn found our situation to be precarious and felt a panic crawling over her, one she hadn't felt since the evening dad didn't come home -spidery and enveloping. She was vulnerable and sacrificed our secret to the alter, gaining Jofrey's guardianship. Jofrey was more than willing to offer himself in a suicide pact but needed more convincing.

"You're a bunch of liars, you understand that, right?"

"I'm sure you knew that from the get-go. But the prospect of money was too much for you, eh? I wonder why you want this money so bad?" There was something alluring about a man that hid himself away in a bar and took a stranger's money. There was something that screamed danger. Something that screamed: desperate.

"Fuck off, Helena. Or is that even your real name?" He spat, jamming a cigarette between pursed lips. We were going to have to pay a cleaning fee, anyway, might as well make it count.

"Yes, it's my name. No one was going to say it loud enough for it to be a problem. No one wanted to find me anyway."

"Difficult to swallow? If you want to go back to Shin Ra, no one's stopping you."

"I think you misunderstand the nature of your role in this." I snapped, feeling my cheek twitch into a contemptuous smirk. Kathelyn just stood and watched the debacle unfold. It was going places, she was sure.

"Enlighten me."

"I have over a quarter of a million left in my undisclosed location, one Shin Ra has never found, and I doubt they care at this point; I'm as good as dead to them. I just want to hand over the money to the first person who will get me to Nibelheim and will offer their silence. If that's not you, then no harm done. I somehow don't think you'll take Shin Ra's money just to make a moot point."

"Very trusting of you."

"I'll give you everything I have if you get us there in one piece."

Jofrey threw himself to the mattress, his head bouncing a few times, scattering ashes. Mom was cremated. I remember how her ashes looked, like the burnt remains from Dad's rolled cigarettes. I enjoyed smoking; the sort of enjoyment one gets from being tied to a pipe in a basement. Jofrey settled on the ashtray on the table, tapping his cigarette a few times. He smoked it just like Dad used to.

"But you need to be honest," he demanded.

"Honest? I think the last time I was honest I was still in diapers... and didn't talk much. Fine, honesty, gotcha."

From my understanding of Kathelyn's conversation with our hired manpower, she hadn't told him much. Something about Shin Ra, science gone horribly wrong and keeping a low profile. Jofrey took the bait. Kathelyn believed truly little of what had happened that night. She held my head, waiting for Jofrey to return from a gambling binge, as I fell in and out of consciousness. I felt long tendrils of silver wrapping around my neck, slowly tightening -just enough to notice but not enough to care. Kathelyn felt responsible for lost time so she was the first to stand up as the door creaked open and she blurted: "we work for Shin Ra and I need your help." It went over as well as anyone could expect; Jofrey paced the floor, uttering pleasantries until his facade crumbled, a realization took hold. He went sour and Kathelyn winced. I laughed. _Shut that kid up, he said._

"So, what's the verdict?" I asked, sneaking his cigarette from his mouth into my own. A pact, like two drunk frats outside a club.

"Do you trust me?" He asked in turn.

"I don't trust anyone, so don't take it hard when I say that I'm hoping my money is enough for you to get us out of here." A long drag, pondering my predicament. I wondered if any of this was real. I wondered if we would see him again. I wondered if I would last long enough to do so. A pull forward, "let's just go."

He nodded, "I need to talk to someone first." Kathelyn stepped in front of the door instinctively. "Don't worry," he reassured, "Dio and I go back, way back, and he owes me. I know he has a boat lying around somewhere."

"A boat?" I laughed, "you are just collecting boats; boats but your own." No response: not like I was expecting one. Watching him leave the room was a difficult pill to swallow: he wasn't coming back, I told myself.

Leaving just me and the traitor. She collapsed in a heap; the only thing remotely put together was the bun piled on her head. She bit off more than she could chew. I knew by the way she was looking at me: I had doomed her, tied her to me like ball and chain, and I would drown her with me. The lack of sleep was getting me; not to the point of disjointing my thoughts completely, however. I knew what thoughts belonged to me. I knew I wouldn't last long though.

"We'll go to Nibelheim, and then what?" She sniffed, wiping snot with the back of her hand

"What do you mean?" I laid beside her, fooled by her questions.

"Why Nibelheim?"

"Why anywhere? At this point, we don't have many options. I mean, you saw... him."

"Saw who?" Her words became disjointed, like water skimming on the pavement, like tar sinking to the bottom of the lake.

"What?" I suddenly wanted to go home. I wanted to lock the doors and nail down the windows. I wanted to go home.

"You know what I mean, Helena. Nibelheim? Really? So clever." Her movements were languid like a skidding camera reel. She leaned in, warm tears pressing up against my cheek. "You know how easy it is to end someone. Just as easy as building a god." Hissing air like air being let out of a tire. "You know what I mean Helena? Hey. Do you know what I mean? You okay, kiddo? You don't look good. I mean, as good as you can be, considering everything. You just look like you're about to throw up." And on cue, I reached for the bin and lost it. I knew I wasn't going to last long.

She pulled at my hair and twisted it slightly, piling the thin, burnt fibres up and pinning it down with the hotel pen. Patting the palm of her hand against my back, right between my shoulder blades, I began sobbing. Softly, she continued patting, not missing a beat. I couldn't live like this, not when she couldn't keep it together... for the both of us. I desperately fumbled with the tissues on the nightstand and cleaned myself up; coming from a lot of practice, I felt skilled at wiping away regret. I looked up, "don't tell Jofrey."

Her chin tightened, "I promise."

When Jofrey arrived, he had keys in his hands. He found his boat in the hands of an arms dealer in the body of a trinket dealer. I met him once at the inauguration of the Gold Saucer. It was a lighthearted gathering with plenty to drink. I don't remember what he looked like. Jofrey had left to pick up some supplies downstairs. We were leaving as soon as Kathelyn could get her shit together. Kathelyn passed a comment on my appearance, one I took lightly. It was fine. "I am fine."

She looked relieved and collapsed on the bed. "I desperately want this behind us."

"There's no going back, this is what we have to live with." I sat beside her, passing my fingers between her soft artificially coloured locks. My father had black hair just like his father before him. By the miracle of hair grease, his hair slicked back, if he perchance grew it long enough. Kathelyn looked like our father and hardly like the mother she never spoke of.

Kathelyn nodded, as if to herself, with conviction, "we're going to get through this."

"How?"

"I know someone in Shin Ra," she sat up suddenly, "we just need to get out of here, hunker down and I'll find a way."

"Shin Ra knows about Sephiroth. Reeve told me so. In Costa del Sol." Kathelyn looked disapprovingly.

"So, we outlive him? Let Shin Ra handle it."

"Shin Ra has no idea what they're dealing with." There's another way. "Nibelheim is our best bet. The Shin Ra mansion. I know there's something there. It's just I don't trust Jofrey to take me there. Maybe distrust isn't the right word. Do you trust him? What did you tell him?"

"I didn't tell him about Sephiroth." I gathered as much, Kathelyn was no idiot; sly and calculated. "He thinks Shin Ra's after us. If you're telling the truth and you have that kind of liquid cash, he wouldn't be getting anything near that amount from Shin Ra. He might be tempted to see how this plays out."

"You think he has that much of a death wish?" I laughed.

"I'm just concerned if he returns."

"Jofrey won't be able to protect us. Just buy me time."

"Please don't say that," she whined.

"What? Like what?" I tiled me head instinctively.

"Like you won't make out of this."

Idiot. You don't understand. "We'll be fine. I promise."

"I'm the one that supposed to say that," Kathelyn laughed, a jarring look on her face; she was on the verge of crying.

Before she could shed a tear, Jofrey burst through the door, slamming the doorknob into the adjacent wall, plaster dusted on the floor. "We leave now." We took Jofrey's instruction -a strong guiding force. Jofrey stoically watched as we gathered our belongings, absentmindedly twirling the set of keys on his index finger, every so often catching them in mid swing.

As I passed him by the door, he grabbed me by the arm, as gently as his discontentment would allow. He watched as Kathelyn walked out of earshot. "If you want Nibelheim, you'll get Nibelheim but don't get me wrong, I'll need that money."

"You'll get it in Nibelheim. It's in Nibelheim." It was always in Nibelheim. There is nothing gained until there's a loss, Hojo used to mutter to his grad students and it would trickle down to the research assistants. I thought I lost enough. We always think we have lost enough. Nibelheim made me realize that wasn't the case. Holding onto Kathelyn's sides as the boat rocked, made me realize I wasn't alone. There was something in me, drawn to the piece of flesh that replaced an apparition, a ghost -I knew I wasn't alone.

Nibelheim wasn't terribly far away from Gold Saucer by boat. There was an embankment by the farmlands. Farmlands to dairy cows, I found out in a textbook mom bought. Jofrey looked at the boat and then to the farm past the mist; it was a getaway, he surmised.

I lunged forward, tumbling out of the boat. He grabbed my arm and helped me to my feet. "This is Nibelheim, eh?"

"I think so, yes," I responded. A ghost town rebuilt from its own ashes. Kathelyn was just as surprised to see it still standing, faint outlines of homes by the base of the mountain. Kathelyn moved towards the edge of town, vexed.

"You'll need this," he handed me a handgun, appearing so small in his hands, so awkwardly in mine.

"Kathelyn won't appreciate this."

"The opposite, I would think."

I laughed, "you don't think this will get me into trouble?"

"Just take the fucking gun, Helena. I'm sure you know it will come in handy." More than you think, you poor unsuspecting fool. "You know how to use it?" Poor, poor unsuspecting fool.

"I know how to shoot it, just not very well."

"Here," he commanded with a sharp wave of his hand. I stood in front of him, gun in hand, letting him guide my hands upward to an unknown target, "you just raise your hand and shoot in the direction of what you want dead."

"Good tip." I imagined the target was the back of Kathelyn's head. And then I chased away the thought, replacing it with the groans of my empty stomach.

"Trust me, it works." Jofrey squeezed my wrist, "You get better at it with practice."

"Maybe that's not such a good thing, eh?"

Jofrey followed Kathelyn who was by the entrance of Nibelheim, marching several paces in front of me, occasionally looking back. He seemed concerned. Was I giving him something to be concerned about? I assumed that was the case as I felt my body sway to the gentle breeze combing over the green plains. We walked a dirt path leading from the ocean to the entrance of Nibelheim, flanked by wood fences. There was a time when I wanted to take over my parent's land and raise Chocobos. Kathelyn had no interest. Midgar called her like many other children, with its glitz and chrome fixtures. Something called to me: a warning of something dastardly beyond the mountains to where Midgar seemed to magically float above starving masses. Perhaps Kathelyn didn't know, perhaps she didn't care.

Kathelyn seemed transfixed to the ghost in front of her. "What a sight to behold," she whispered to herself.

"The miracle Shin Ra produces now and again... it's inspiring," I whispered back.

"I heard the rumours. Nibelheim was burnt to the ground by rebels."

I laughed.

"What?"

I bit my lip. "I'm just thinking how no matter what Shin Ra does, someone is bound to hear of it."

"I have my sources."

"Of course you do. " I sniffed as something fool rolled down the mountains, "even the air smells like smoke."

The mansion was circumscribed by mist, suffocated. Yes, it was still standing or perhaps not standing at all, ceased to exist. Perhaps that would have been for the best. The mist seemed to make its way into the main hall, curtains falling off its rungs stifling the faint sunlight outside, scraping against dingy windows.

"So, you've made it in once piece," he said, hand outstretched, "now, my money."

"Take a load off, Jofrey. At least rest." I retorted, the scent of lost debauchery and schemes in the air.

"Here? No thanks. I just want my money."

"I'll get it. Why don't you make small talk with Kathelyn?" I could hear the dust rattle and be expelled from Kathelyn's nose in disgust. The leather of Jofrey's jacket slid perfectly into place as he crossed his arms. Something was wrong with me; I could sense it.

I walked up the stairs to the guest rooms, the faint light from the stain glass window illuminating my path. The lights weren't working and the haunting darkness, seeping from every corner, seemed to call me when previously it repelled me. Something was really wrong with me. I wonder if Kathelyn had noticed.

The small pack of cash I left an old friend who was leaving Midgar indefinitely. I cryptically instructed her to leave it in Nibelheim to which she responded in a PHS message that she left it in the guestroom on the second floor, left of the stain glass windows. She left Midgar and Shin Ra after becoming deathly ill. She dreamt that a figure bathed in light warned her to leave and she would be cured. Her ten-year-old child sent me a letter notifying me of her passing, knowing full well that Shin Ra may have been sifting through my mail; it was probably the most proper thing to do, as risky as it was. I looked through the drawers and even lifted the thin mattress to find nothing. There was a bookshelf behind the door with a meagre selection of books. One such book was a thin leather-bound book with a metal clasp -Hojo's diary. A small package fell out onto the floor. How ironic, I thought to myself; in Nibelheim, Jofrey was getting his money and I was going to find something much more valuable in the leaves of coffee-stained pages.

I walked up to Jofrey and pressed the envelope onto his chest. He flinched, doubling over by the pressure. "Here. Now leave."

He counted the money meticulously but efficient; he had done this before. "It's here but I'm not leaving yet." He looked vaguely in Kathelyn's direction who was feigning ignorance. Kathelyn must have told him something. So conniving my sister had become.

"Yet?" My eyebrows flew up, feigning ignorance.

"It's dark and if you haven't noticed, it's starting to rain Chocobos out there." He turned to the nearest window; a piece of cloth, now turned to a moth-eaten rag, was nailed above it, generally covering the window. He peered through a hole in the fabric. "I'll rest here and leave in the morning."

"I have no objections. Do you, Helena?"

"Not at all, Kathelyn."

"I'm glad we came to an arrangement then," he responded snidely, again looking in the general direction that Kathelyn stood.

I pointed out the bedrooms on the second floor. Kathelyn said nothing but walked up the stairs, following Jofrey. Kathelyn began tugging at her bun, strands of hair met loose ones, intertwining into a mess of split-ends and a thinning hairline. She once told me her mother had pin-straight, thick hair. Curling irons were no match. That was the most defining feature that separated us: our hair. We shared each of our own mother's hair. I hated how she could grow, twist and style her hair as she had willed. She hated me for having a mother at all.

It wasn't long after I pulled off my boots and sank into a bed that Kathelyn inched her way towards me.

"There's something wrong, isn't there?"

"There's nothing wrong," I swallowed -a terrible habit. I couldn't understand why people feigned interest. I couldn't understand why Kathelyn suddenly cared. "I'm just really, really tired." I was always tired, ever since I turned seventeen and I learned of the psychotropic effects of psychopharmacology. This was a different kind of tired: the will to put in motion plans, that was once suppressed, now no longer existed at all. I just wanted to collide with the nearest pillow and hope that the migraine that plagued me would just disappear and I would meld with the inch thick mattress.

"Hello, Helena." Yes, hello, familiar voice, familiar face triggered by a familiar voice. Keep me company as I fall asleep.

"I just need to sleep."

"Okay, I'll keep watch." Kathelyn took a pistol from her bag, laid the barrel on her legs. She contemplated her statement for a minute, knowing full well we were on our own, Jofrey sleeping in the room down the hall was watching out for number one. She loaded the gun solemnly. "Just sleep, I got this under control."

I closed my eyes, mouth still functional. "What did you tell him?" I snuck my pistol under my pillow.

"Sorry?" I could hear her snap the bullets in place. She learned how to shoot young. Dad would take her in the back of the barn and practice shooting whiskey and beer bottles. She was a natural, he beamed. I pretended to be too weak to deal with the recoil when in reality I was irked by the idea of a bullet tearing through whatever it collided with. Kathelyn was no stranger to a gun and having that pistol in her grip made me feel all that safer. I was a lousy shot anyway.

"What did you tell him... to make him stay?" I clarified.

"Oh, well, I don't know. I just asked. He said yes."

"Did you offer him more money?"

She laughed, "So what?"

"You think a night will protect us?"

"I just want one more night of not fearing for my life, I guess."

"Do you think one man is going to do that for us? Especially now that we know what's following me."

"He did it thus far, Helena. Just one more night is all I need."

"That's rather foolish, Kathelyn."

"We'll stay here. We'll barricade the entire mansion if we have to. He won't-."

"He will. Again, don't be foolish."

"So what do you expect us to do?"

"Don't get me wrong. I'm not willing to give him what he needs to use the Black Materia. I'm just not stupid enough to think that we can barricade ourselves and think that will protect us." I rolled over, my fingertips dragging the oil on the wallpapered walls, tracing intricate spirals. "I'm still thinking of a plan, I just need to find it."

Kathelyn let out a huff through pursed lips. The gun's barrel snapped into place. It was looking like a very promising option, dark neuronal pathways etched since childhood: a likely option. I was instructed through years of cognitive-behavioural conditioning that there was always another option, as unbelievable as it sounded. I was not the person I once was, I reminded myself or at least attempted to offer myself the possibility of another option.

"You can trust me," Kathelyn whispered pitifully.

I couldn't but I felt that at this point it was no fault on her own. "I know."

I closed my eyes, tongue pressed on my pallet. I once heard it made you fall asleep and as desperately tired I felt, I felt no need to rest. My heart pounded in my ears, elevated blood pressure coursing through my eye sockets. I was afraid. I was afraid of the great and vast darkness that waited somewhere within the ventricles of my brain. I was not anxious -a feeling I was very much acquainted with. I was afraid of failure, of not being enough, of the never-ending void, of a man I knew had it in him, of a man that could very well hold a mirror exposing something I had been hiding for so long. I know he's here.

_Yes, he's here._

My eyes snapped wide, a familiar melody accompanying the stillness of the room. Kathelyn was not here. I must have fallen asleep for some time; I never heard Kathelyn stand from the creaky bed. She was playing the piano, I tried to reassure the thumping of my heart against my chest. Kathelyn was playing the song locked away in a memory I had no intention of reliving. I had no intention of going down, following the sound, but here I was walking down the stairs to the small parlour where piano keys were banging against my chest.

My heart sank as I opened the door to find a lonely piano sitting in the corner, moonlight pouring from an uncovered stain glass window, blanketing the polished onyx top. I sat on the stool, a faint memory begging to be released. I tapped at the ivory keys, still warm. When did he learn how to play? He was four, his fine motor skills fully developed, and Hojo breathing down his throat -A well-rounded SOLDIER. Eventually, Hojo lost interest after hounding him with his snappy wit. Sephiroth did what he was told, always what he was told. That's why I was surprised when he instructed me to sit beside him as he played what sounded like rain against the pavement, hollow streets and a lone umbrella moving to the beat of his fingers drumming on the keys. It was my tenth birthday, I remember. This was my gift. The music suddenly stopped and the veil that isolated me from the mechanical whirl of medical pumps lifted, and we were exposed for a crime.

How did he play again? My fingers splayed across the board. His hand pushed down on my knuckles puppeteering a sound.

"Don't touch me."

His fingertips lifted slightly, still hovering by my wrist. He thought about saying something vile but then decided against it. I was expecting it. He moved his hand and let it slide to his side, calculating producing an eeriness that absorbed me. He climbed over the stool, again calculating, sitting beside me, ignoring the irony of it. I followed his measured movements: his fingertips tapped so gently at the ivory keys, an occasional slip to the ebony keys. He used to play as gently, as calculating and yet so filled with rage, a rage perhaps he never knew how to swallow. He wrote me a song once, the irony of it.

"Play it again," I urged, lightly tapping the nearest key.

"But you hate it."

"I do. But play it anyway."

He wrote it when we had very little to give. I built a home for a rat that died two weeks later, he wrote me a song I only heard twice, but that haunted me in the strangest of moments. I hated how it sounded so conflicted and disjointed, absorbed in its own misery. He played it so well.

"Why are you here?"

"Why are you here?" Sephiroth mocked, all intended to derail and confuse. I wasn't sure why I followed the music, like a siren's song, to a place I knew I would find him like a memory I would try to flush out with a fifth of whiskey. Like a memory of desperate children, trying to find reprieve in hand holding -a foreign experience. Like a memory of loneliness as he turned away and I no longer existed, just a faint image in the background. But I would watch him from the crowd. A memory of a broken child becoming a twisted man.

I slammed my open palm on the keys. I had enough of hearing it. "What was that song you taught me?" I lifted my forefingers and jabbed at the keys, occasionally making sense and carrying a tune before veering far off into territory I thought to be comical, but he remained unmoved.

Disappointed, I started to laugh.

And laugh.

And then, a sentiment flooded me, unexpectedly and I began to cry.

"You're going to kill me, aren't you?" I sobbed.

"Why would I do that?"

I shrugged, "just a thought. But I'm right, aren't I?"

"You would like for me to say yes?" He found me amusing.

I stood from the stool, wiping at the tears pooled in my dimples and down my chin. "If it were to be anyone, I would want it to be you," I admitted. "If I were to go, then I'm glad it would be you."

"You have no idea what you're saying."

"I do. I do understand. I understood the day my mother carved the tattoo in my back. I knew my fate was bound with death. Maybe that's why I drank so much."

Sephiroth smiled, genuinely. "I think there is more to your drinking than the burden your mother placed on you."

"Playing a psychologist, are we?" I laughed, genuinely. "Well, then let's talk about your father. A 'walking mass of complexes' you once called him? What's it like having the apple falling pretty close to that tree?"

He laughed, sardonically, a surface breath lost in his chest. He was wearing the shirt I last saw him in, in the suit that I last saw him in. He was laughing at me and the nearly transparent barrier I held up. He laughed before taking a breath and saying: "You still dream of me, don't you?"

"I don't know what you mean." He pointed to his throat and I suddenly felt the delicate pendant on my throat. Yes, I thought of him, as often as I felt the pendant wrapped around my neck, like a ghost limb.

"How does it feel," he continued, "to be an afterthought? Nothing. Or does it satisfy to be suddenly in my line of sight?"

He approached, taking a small step forward but encroaching space I built for myself. Haunting visions left me breathless as I tried to provide a retort. I wanted him to leave me, for once, so I started to scream obscenities that were brewing since we were children. A haunting vision of his back turned away from me; the support I build for myself was now leaving me, like everyone I had ever known. He approached again and I fell backwards, hitting my head on the chaise behind me. Before my eyesight cleared, he was already standing over me -a foreign entity.

"You're not..."

"I am."

I shook my head, "not the man I once knew."

"That is where you would be wrong and yet right."

"JENOVA."

"Yes. And you would know, you understand..."

"You won't. You won't do it."

"And that is where you would be completely wrong."

I felt gloved fingertips move across my jugular when an image of a woman, liberating me from my darkest moment, crossed my mind. I wanted to be safe, I wanted to survive, but something was telling me that was only a vanity project. I just wanted to fight. For once.

"Kathelyn!"

I was back in bed, and she was already at my side, a gun tapping at my spine as she tried to comfort me.

"You're safe," she promised and for once, I believed her.

* * *

A/N: I'm reposting infrequently. I'm starting a new trimester and writing 15-page papers are getting to me. I'm also not as enthusiastic as I once was about writing.

I really like psychological horror btw, I really hope they keep those elements in the remake.

Anyway, let me know what you think. Would love to hear your feedback.

UPDATE: I had to change a birth year.


End file.
